


Doctor Who: A Snapshot of History

by francistardis



Series: Doctor Who: A Snapshot of History [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Anarchy, Gen, Punk, Science Fiction, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:28:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24346531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/francistardis/pseuds/francistardis
Summary: Bill was sad - it was Christmas - marking the 25th anniversary of when her mum died - she never really knew her mum. Only second-hand accounts of how brilliant and wonderful she was - apparently she looked a lot like her - but she wouldn't know - there aren't any photos of her. Lucky for Bill, she has a sympathetic tutor who just so happens to be an alien with a time machine that has the power to change history.
Series: Doctor Who: A Snapshot of History [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757737
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Doctor Who: A Snapshot of History

**Author's Note:**

> I think this is the first time I've published some original prose that isn't just fanfiction scribbled hastily in the back of my English book - any and all feedback, criticism and your thoughts will be greatly appreciated - thank you!
> 
> \- Francis

Bill was feeling sad again - the Doctor recognised that look clear as day. She didn’t waltz into his office with the same joyful swagger she usually did, it was more of a glum and boring and well, plain walk - it's not the electric Bill Potts swagger the Doctor knew and loved. She still smiled when she didn’t understand something the Doctor was telling her about - but her mind was obviously somewhere else. So he asked her - what’s wrong Bill? Why are you so down? Is there anything I can do? Is it Nardole? Bill laughed - she always laughed when he took the mick out of Nardole. And that’s when she began to explain. 

It was quickly approaching Christmas and Christmas is usually a happy time filled with love and joy and friends and… well, family. But not all of her family is here for Christmas - in fact she hardly has a family as it is - Bill’s mum - Sharon - died not long after Bill was born - around Christmas time. It was the 25th anniversary of her mum's death. She didn't know her mum - all she had were second hand accounts of her - apparently she was supposed to look like her - but she wouldn't know - there weren't even any photos of her. Nothing.

Little baby Bill obviously didn’t understand a thing that was going on when Bill's mum died and as Moira - Bill’s foster mum - relayed to the Doctor before she angrily slammed the door in his face, she died on Christmas Eve from a terrible accident when she was riding back home from a protest - Moira wasn’t there when it happened - nobody was. The first she heard of it was at four in the morning later that same night when a small bald bloke in a duffel coat stained in pink and yellow paint wearing the most ridiculous makeup turned up to her flat to deliver the bad news. Moira was only Sharon's next door neighbour who occasionally told her to keep it down to begin with but one night, they crossed paths with each other at the local pub and got absolutely pissed together - and that's when the friendship really began. In a way, Sharon was Moira's only friend - maybe even her best friend by default - she had fond memories of them nursing glasses of white wine as they stumbled - lost - through the streets of Gloucester at three in the morning - waking up a farmer by stumbling through his field and somehow ending up falling into his garden bushes by accident. She was there to comfort Sharon when her husband left her for another man and was there when she got fired from her job for being 'too audacious' - they'd been through a lot together and even had plans to travel to Venice together on Boxing Day - so you can only imagine Moira's surprise when that trip was very quickly cut short by the revelation that Sharon was no longer with us and that her will very clearly stated that she wanted Moira to be the one to adopt and look after Bill should Sharon pass away. In just one night, her life had been changed completely, her best friend taken away and now having to look after a child. Looking after Bill was the least she could do - she owed it to Sharon.

“It’s a stupid idea. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid” That’s what he was saying to himself as he entered the TARDIS - he’d heard the same thing from Missy as he was detailing to her his plan. “Have you gone bananas? She’s just a wee human gurl, it’s not like you to be nice and buggering about with the timelines for no good reason - and besides which - I thought you didn’t like Christmas anyway?”

“I don’t. And I’m not doing this without a reason - she’s sad - that’s reason enough.”

“Have you forgotten you’ve got a time machine though?” Missy barked at him. “You can just nip to Disneyland in the future and nick her a snowglobe from the gift shop - that’d be good enough - this is just sentimental - now if I didn’t know better, I would guess that somebody is becoming a little attached.”

“There's nothing wrong with going that little bit further, Missy. Kindness is all about doing the most you can for the people you care about - this is exactly what I’m trying to teach you.”

“It’s a stupid idea. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” Missy gloated gleefully from atop her piano. And maybe it was. Maybe this was all a stupid idea. But stupid ideas can’t be helped - and he was set on this now. He’s the Doctor. He’s keen. He’s got a mission. He’s got a time machine and he’s got a duffel coat clad valet - quick five-minute trip in and out - snap a few photos, get back out. He heard the familiar sound of a toilet flush as Nardole walked out from the lower deck munching on a packet of prawn cocktail - he’d get to the crisps later. “You’ll have to give the downstairs lavatory a minute or two if I were you - rough night.” Suddenly he stopped in his tracks - dropping his crisps on the floor and crossing his arms very sternly in the Doctor’s direction before clearing his throat. “Excuse me. Just what are you doing?” The Doctor glanced up from the controls with a frown at the little bald man staring daggers at him for just leaning on the console. Some people just can't mind their business, can they?

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m setting the controls. Quick Christmas present - in and out.” 

Nardole let out an angry sigh at this. “Your oath, sir. You’re not supposed to be leaving the vault behind unless it’s an explicit emergency such as - and I quote directly from you - alien incursion, time has been tampered with, the universe - as we know it - is ending or we’ve been invited to one of Captain Jack’s stag parties. Does a quick Christmas present count as any of those three?”

“Mehmehmehmeh - it’s all noise with you tonight, isn’t it? Look, it’s a quick in-and-out one, it’ll take five minutes at the most, can’t you stop being annoying for five minutes? I should reinstall your mute button.”

Nardole exhaled through his nose like an angry pufferfish and began to uncross his arms. “Well, what are we doing?”

“Ah. Well. Do you remember Bill? The student I’m tutoring - big afro, denim jacket, always banging on about Little Mix and having a crush on Kristen Stewart? Well, this is a gift for her. Her mum sort of... died not long after giving birth to Bill - and apparently she’s supposed to look like her but there’s no photos. None. So I-”

“So you want to go back in time, photograph her mum while she was still alive and potentially disrupt the timelines - disrupting the web of time as a present to Bill? I don’t think the Timelords will be very happy about that.”

The Doctor sniggered. As if the Timelords actually cared about what happened to time - they’re hardly ones to talk given how much they mucked about with the timestream during the Time War - if they came marching in giving him a telling off then he’d just laugh in their face. Pompous hypocrites - that’s all they were. Pompous. Hypocrites.

“Oh please - when’s the last time they gave a toss about the timelines? Now are you going to help me or are you going to just stand there stamping your foot all day? I’ve got time. No wait - I haven’t. Which is it?”

Nardole thought on it for a moment - this was always irritating. He hated when Nardole would think - it’s almost as bad as him actually speaking. It’s like watching plants grow, you can see all the little cogs turning and ticking in his head as he forms a single thought. Simple. Thick. Dull. Hurry up. Move on. Things to do.

“Fine. But I should warn y-” 

Nope! The Doctor swiftly interrupted Nardole’s dull and tedious unintellectual ramblings and equipped the situation with his much, much more exciting and interesting voice and thoughts. “You saying fine is good enough for me!” There was no time for warnings - Bill was sad. The Doctor almost immediately raced from one side of the console unit to the other pressing buttons, flicking switches and pulling a wide variety of different colourful levers until finally he made his way over to the dematerialisation lever. He had set the coordinates - Bristol, December 23nd 1991. Here we go!


End file.
